


Setting in a Honeymoon

by Applefall



Series: Super Sappy Series of a Married Couple [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluffy, Honeymoon, M/M, Married Couple, Sappy, some smut haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefall/pseuds/Applefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick go on their honeymoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting in a Honeymoon

The alarm clock awoke Pete that morning. As he reached over to shut it off, he felt his husband stirring, the blankets shuffling as he turned over. The sight of the wedding rings on the night stand brought a smile to Pete's face, and as he turned back to face Patrick, he kissed Patrick's forehead.

"Morning, Lunchbox." Pete said, using one of his terms of endearment. Patrick yawned, and brought himself closer to Pete, wrapping his arm around his waist.

"You're warm." Patrick said, voice slightly muffled against Pete's chest. Pete bidded in agreement, and ran a hand through Patrick's hair. "Why so early?" Patrick asked him, glancing at the alarm clock.

"The plane leaves in a few hours, 'Trick." Patrick nodded, remembering. 

The strawberry blond turned and stretched, and then asked Pete, "Wanna take a bath?" Pete sat up, gave Patrick a kiss, and then pulled away. 

"Of course I do." Both slipped out of bed and walked to their closet. 

"Wear this shirt." Pete told Patrick, pointing to one that faded purple into blue. He'd worn it once at a photo shoot, and it looked so nice against his impossibly milky skin that Pete had just wanted to devour Patrick.

"Only if you wear that one." Patrick pointed to a shirt that stated _Suck My Richard._ Patrick loved that shirt, loved how it hung off of Pete's frame.

"Don't worry, sucking will come later." Pete winked suggestively at Patrick, who sighed wistfully. 

"How about now?" Patrick suggested hopefully, pulling Pete's hand. 

"Yeah, now is fine too." Pete said hastily, following Patrick to the bathroom. 

Patrick began to pull off his shirt slowly, followed by his night pants. When all that was left were his boxers, artfully hanging lower on one hip, Pete groaned, and began to run the bath. As the tub slowly filled Patrick came up to Pete, naked and glorious, and tugged his boxers down.

They stumbled into the bathtub and washed up, but not before having fun.

 

It wasn't until they were out of the door when Patrick said, "Pete, we should make a song about this." Confused, Pete turned to Patrick.

"About our marriage?" He asked, and Patrick nodded. Pete laughed, and then said, "Come on, let's load up." After the couple loaded their suitcases into the car succesfully, Pete hopped into the drivers seat, Patrick in the passengers.

"You look so good in blue." Pete complimented his husband, who chuckled at the voice of words. 

 

At the airport they were recognized by a group of fans. They were hand in hand, strolling around the airport. Their flight didn't leave for another hour and A half, and they were all loaded up. Thsy had figured they could grab something to eat when a group of teenage girls walked up to them, giggling excitedly.

Patrick gripped Pete's hand a little tighted when the group approached them. Despite the well wishers and congratulaters on his Twitter, some had been furious. Furious enough to claim that they were never listening to their music again. Patrick didn't regret posting the picture of their joined hands, though.

"Hi," the ringleader girl said, a giggle escaping her. "Could we have your autographs, please?" She asked, and then added, "Congrats on the marriage, you guys are so cute together." Patrick smiled, a small blush riding his cheeks.

"Yeah, 'course." Patrick said, and let go of Pete's hand to grasp the pen and paper. Pere immediately missed him, missed the calluses rubbing against his, the firmness of his grip. "One for each of you?" Patrick asked, and the four girls nodded eagerly. Pete grinned as Patrick signed four slips of paper. He was so glad that Patrick wasn't as shy around his fans anymore. 

The girks turned to Pete as Patrick finished the fourth, holding it out. Pete signed quickly, eager to find Patrick's hand again. The girls said their thanks and left, laughing with each other.

"Pete," Patrick said quietly. Pete turned to face him, concerned. "Would you ever want to have kids?" He asked slowly, looking nervous. Pete sighed in relief, glad it wasn't something else.

"I don't know Patrick. The baby wouldn't look like the both of us." Pete says honestly.

"I know but..." Pete can tell this is a big thing for Patrick to say. He laces their fingers together.

"If we do, I want the baby to look like you." Pete tells him, kissing his cheek. It's true. He'd rather have a baby that looks like Patrick. Patrick sighs, he would want to have the baby look like Pete. Dark and exotic looking, with deeper than brown eyes. Beautiful. Pete notices the gesrs turning in Patrick's head and whispers, "C'mon, let's head to the plane."

 

They arrive in Hawaii hours later, Patrick's head resting on Pete's shoulder, their hands in Patrick's lap. Pete brushes away the hair that falls into his eye, and shakes him gently. "We are here." He says, stifling a yawn. Pete couldn't sleep. Couldn't tear his eyes away from his sleeping husband, who spoke in his sleep sometimes. It was adorable.

"Really?" Patrick asks sleepily, eyes blinking open. He removed his hands from Pete's, stretches and yawns. It's late evening, and Pete thinks it's the perfect time to go to the beach. Once they are off the plane and heading toward the beachhouse with their luggage, Patrick asks, "It's a private beach, right?"

Patrick had insisted on a private beach, wanting the two of them to be alone for their honeymoon and not be swarmed with fans or paparazzi. Not that he minds his fans, but he would love to have alone time with Pete.

"Yeah, it is. That way we can strip." Pete snickers, and Patrick joins in. 

Except Patrick's not snickering when he's being pinned to the sand later, Pete biting and sucking his neck. "You look so good." Pete practically growls, and bites down on Patrick's pale collar bone, now exposed to the cool night air. Patrick cries out, bucking his hips up, desperate for Pete. "Mineminemineminemine." Pete chants, lapping at the bite. Patrick nods ferverently.

"Yours," he agrees, wrapping his legs around Pete's waist. Pete grinds down against the jeans and Patrick whimpers. "Are you going to dry hump me all day or Are you going to fucking fuck me?" Patrick asks impatiently, hands scrambling to Pete's shirt, lifting it over is head.

In response, Pete lowers the jean material, and makes an iterated noise. "Stupid girl jeans." He mutters, tugging them down Patrick's legs, exposing the spotless skin to the night. Patrick shivers as Pete removes the jeans, and he pulls his ankles out of the tight material.

"Your turn." Patrick gasps as Pete mouths at the bulge in his boxers, a dark spot slowly appearing. Pete hums in excitement, and Patrick brings his hands to his waist, struggling with the fly.

"Need help?" Pete asks, grinning. Patrick sighs, and Pete deftly undoes the fly and the button, ripping his boxers and jeans down in one go.

Patrick shouts into the night air as he comes in Pete's mouth, Pete looking up at him. They've done this hundreds of times, but each time sets Patrick's skin on fire in a new way. "Pete!" Patrick cries, grasping his now blond hair. Pete follows him a minute later, rocking against his hand. His face is buried in Patrick's stomach, mouth feeling slightly bitter.

They lay there for a moment, exhausted, until Patrick says, "Get off me, your fucking heavy." Pete laughs, and presses a kiss to his belly, scooting off him. 

"Let's wash off in the ocean." Pete suggests, standing, pushing himself up. He's not as young as Patrick, who pulls himself off the ground easily. 

"Sounds nice." Patrick says, and they head into the ocean, splashing each other like kids. Patrick brings out child like energy in Pete, warming him. Pete knows he'll never be without Patrick's warmth again.

After they've finished messing around, they slowly dress, clothes covered in sand before making their way back to the beach house. It's small and beautiful, almost entirelt on the beach. The house is a soft blue, and the insides are as white as snow. The rooms are decorated with sea shells among other things. It's small, but comfortable. 

Almost as comfortable as the bed the two share for the next few days.


End file.
